Chapter 5 THE DANGEROUS ATTENTION
POV: Selena
My phone vibrated just as I stepped into the building, and the sudden sound made me flinch.
I stopped walking, heart racing, and checked the screen. No message. No missed call. Just my nerves reacting before my mind could catch up. Ever since last night, I had the uneasy feeling that I was being watched, measured, weighed in ways I did not understand.
I wanted one thing this morning. To do my job and disappear again.
That did not happen.
The moment I reached my desk, I knew something was wrong. My chair had been shifted slightly. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that I noticed. The files on my desk were stacked neatly, more neatly than I left them. Someone had been here.
I told myself it was nothing. Cleaning staff. Routine checks. Normal explanations I clung to because the alternative made my chest tighten.
I logged in and tried to focus. Numbers steadied me. Patterns calmed me. But my concentration kept slipping, pulled toward the glass offices down the hall.
Adrian’s door was open.
I had never seen that before.
He stood inside with another man, tall and polished, wearing the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where he belonged. They spoke in low voices, but the hallway carried sound. I did not mean to listen. I failed anyway.
“She has top grades,” Adrian said. His tone was controlled, but intent. “Consistent. Scholarships all the way through.”
I froze, my fingers hovering above the keyboard.
“No connections,” he continued. “No family donors. No political ties.”
The other man laughed softly. “You ran a background check on an intern?”
“Basic verification,” Adrian replied.
“Since when do you care about interns?” the man asked.
Marcus. I recognized him now. Senior advisor. Power broker. Someone people stepped aside for.
Adrian did not answer right away. I risked a glance. His expression was unreadable.
“She caught an error no one else did,” he said finally. “That matters.”
Marcus’s smile thinned. “Be careful. People start asking questions when attention shifts.”
“I am aware,” Adrian said.
Their voices dropped lower after that, but the damage was done. My pulse thudded in my ears. He had looked into me. My life. My history. I had not agreed to that.
I forced myself to look back at my screen. I did not want anyone to catch me frozen like this, half exposed, half terrified. I told myself this was normal. Of course they verified interns. Of course they checked credentials.
Still, my hands shook.
At lunch, I could not eat. I slipped outside and called my mother, needing the sound of her voice to anchor me.
“Selena?” she answered, warmth flooding the line.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “Just busy.”
“Are you eating?” she asked.
“Yes,” I lied.
She told me about her day, about a new client, about the neighbor’s dog that would not stop barking. Ordinary things. Safe things. I listened, nodded, laughed in the right places. I did not mention Adrian. I did not mention the way his eyes had sharpened when he looked at me last night. I did not mention the quiet intensity that still lingered in my thoughts.
“Remember,” she said gently, “you earned your place.”
“I know,” I replied. I hoped it was true.
When I returned to my desk, the office felt different. Conversations paused when I passed. A few people glanced at me with curiosity instead of indifference. That was worse. Indifference had been a shield.
Midafternoon, Mrs. Patterson stopped by. “How are you settling in?” she asked.
“Fine,” I said.
She hesitated. “If anyone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me.”
That should have reassured me. Instead, it confirmed my fear.
By the time the day slowed, my head ached from holding myself together. I focused on my tasks and avoided the glass offices. I did not look toward Adrian again.
I was shutting down my computer when I noticed it.
An envelope.
Plain. White. Sitting squarely in the center of my desk.
My breath caught. I was certain it had not been there earlier. I looked around. No one was watching. The office was nearly empty.
I picked it up slowly. It was thicker than it should have been. My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Cash slid into my palm.
Five hundred dollars.
My stomach twisted. I unfolded the small piece of paper tucked beneath the bills.
Leave the De Luca family alone.
This is your only warning.
The room seemed to tilt. I stared at the words until they blurred, my mind struggling to catch up.
I had done nothing. I had not asked questions. I had not spoken to anyone. And yet someone had decided I was a problem worth silencing.
I folded the note carefully, my hands cold. Fear crept up my spine, slow and heavy. This was not a misunderstanding. This was a message.
I looked down the hallway toward Adrian’s office, then away. I did not know who had sent it. I did not know why. But I knew one thing with absolute clarity.
Someone was paying attention now.
And they did not want me here.